The Marriage Assignment [4]

Chapter 20, the way she writes

[ UNEDITED ]

Like half-moons, weak crescents, his eyes are closed. He sleeps barely snoring, barely breathing. The only way I know of him being alive, are the moments he sighs in my face or holds my waist lazy.

Yoongi's asleep, I'm awake. It's the morning and I turn under his wrapping arm, so I can watch him as he sleeps so early this new morning.

His hair is bizarre, jumping out, and messy from the pillow that cushions his cheek. I smile, hand off his chest I slowly rub and rest on, allowing my fingers to feel his hair away from his forehead.

I don't speak.

So early, 7 a.m., after gazing lovingly at him, my eyes bounce with my eyelashes slow and soft. I wish to touch him again, so I do, brave enough to hug his cheek with my palm when his fingers loosely pat my back, my silk, my skin.

Yoongi doesn't know of the way he holds me. He doesn't know how he squeezes me in his sleep, or how low his head ducks in want for being suffocated by my chest. I let the obliviousness rise without contain. He holds me, I hold him.

It isn't until 7:38 a.m., where Yoongi's one eye peeks open, his lips part for an exaggerated grunt, and his perfectly shaped eyebrows knit deep—as if he's looking at a monster. I smile again, trying to pretend I've been sleeping, but it's clear that the confused man sees straight through my playful façade.

"What's—" his head parks away from mine, his lips closing and his eyes darting towards multiple corners of the room. Once eyes settle over the mirror opposing us, I let my fingers fall from Yoongi's chest and over to his abdomen, moving my bare shoulder close with teasing.

"You were drunk and stopped by last night."

His eyes, his beautiful moon-shaped eyes are ruined from the lack of sleep. Yoongi gawks, and parts his lips again. I watch how chapped they are close to me, before smiling and reassuring him.

"Nothing insane happened," I lie, somewhat.

Yoongi's forehead now waves around like a sea. His fingers loosen around my hip, and he moves for his own space, worried for offending. I giggle, shaking my head and bringing his arm back around me. "It's cold around us, don't do that."

Now, from my reaction, from my action, and the distance I don't create between us—Yoongi looks terrified with the mix of muddled behaviour. "Why are we in here?" he asks, voice cracking.

"You asked me to lay with you last night, so I did." I'm soft, I'm reassuring, and surprisingly, I'm not afraid to be touching him as I hold his cheek, so he can face my eyes again. "I can tell you're worrying where there is no need."

His throat dances with a swallow. His eyes that hold sleep, his mouth that holds terrible bad breath, everything hits my expression fast and all I can do is smile at him grow in awe over my handling of him—of us.

"H-How did I get here?"

"Terin," then my hand leaves his cheek and rubs over his chest slow.

Yoongi swallows hard. Harder than hard and I don't notice the look in his eyes while staring down at his shirt in question. "I wanted to ask why she was here, or how she was here yesterday...but you were too drunk to tell me much."

"I uh..."

I wait, staring to his eyes. I don't know why I want to still cuddle. I don't know why I like his arms around me. I don't know why last night made me smile. I don't know why I keep replaying what he said about 'liking me' years before. I don't know, I don't know. I don't know why I wish to kiss his lips.